


Angel Down

by Star_on_a_Staff



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Blue Lions Route, Cavity Inducing Sap, Crying, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Feelings, Feelings and crying abound, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Love Confessions, Post Time Skip, Religion, Romance, Sweet, Sylvain and Mercedes are super sweet and don't deserve what I put them through, Tenderness, bring the tissues, praying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-11-02 01:17:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20572919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_on_a_Staff/pseuds/Star_on_a_Staff
Summary: Hands, cold and rough, grasp her face with panic. A shock of scarlet hair swims before her eyes, and after a moment, Mercedes recognizes the terrified face in front of her. “Ah…Sylvain…” A beatific smile raises her pale lips as she shudders in his arms. “You’re…here…”Or; in which Sylvain and Mercedes find out that love confessions are much easier to say after you've stared death in the face. Sylvain/Mercedes. Post time-skip, during the Blue Lions Route. Takes place after their A support.





	Angel Down

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Lady Gaga's song, Angel Down. I put verse 2 of the song in the fic as well, because that shit hits HARD. 
> 
> *looks at my Felix/Annette fic and then back at this one* I...I seem to have a thing for wounded confessions. Sue me?
> 
> This takes place after their A support, because it felt as if they kinda confessed but also not quite?? It's a weird tenuous line and I decided to just cross it because hey, I'm a writer and I have no chill whatsoever. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_Doesn't everyone belong_

_In the arms of the sacred?_

_Why do we pretend we're wrong?_

_Has our young courage faded?_

O.O

Mercedes breathes deeply. In and out, like she had been trained to do.

The arrow may had punctured her lung; she doesn’t quite know, for the fiery pain lancing up and down her entire body is clouding her judgement. She can taste something wet and salty in the back of her throat and it makes swallowing difficult.

But she has to do this.

_Everything hurts_

“Breathe, Mercie.” She tells herself, almost crying aloud as she staggers and the arrow sinks further into her chest. “Breathe…”

The right thing to do at the moment is to leave the arrow inside. If Mercedes were to pull it out, she may bleed to death right here on this empty hill, surrounded by the Imperial army with only the sounds of battle as her final dirge.

_But it hurts_

“Goddess, be my strength.” Mercedes sways as she forces the prayer out through her teeth. “Goddess, be my strength…”

She can’t stand upright anymore. The priestess topples and finally falls. When she lands, the arrow breaks in two, and something within her body snaps.

The pain is excruciating. Mercedes can’t help it; she screams as she claws at the grass, wild and terrified. She sees nothing but white; empty, unfeeling white that is nothing like the serene colors of the cathedral. 

_I don’t want to die like this…!_

But, as always, the Goddess deals with two hands. The world grows fuzzy, her pain ebbing with her consciousness. Everything begins to dim and grow faint, and there’s a faint glow around her vision. Who knew dying could be so peaceful, even amongst all this chaos?

Mercedes closes her eyes. She must not die with an earthly mindset. The Goddess will come to receive her…and then…

_But I have so much left to do…_

“MERCEDES!”

The panicked shout rings in her ears and Mercedes squeezes her eyes shut with a groan of pain. Does this have to be the last thing she hears before passing out of this life?

“Oh, Goddess, Mercedes!”

…She recognizes this voice. It’s such a familiar voice…a friendly voice…

Then suddenly, as if someone threw a rock into her pond of delirium, a most awful thundering of hoof beats jolted her awake. The jingling of bits, the harsh snorting of a war horse….a rider has come to her solitary hill.

“Get AWAY from her!”

The scream of rage is immediately followed by a shriek from some poor soul, probably an assaulting soldier…but now even her hearing is leaving her as the world softens and begins to warp into oblivion.

_Goddess, receive me with grace…._

“Mercedes, oh dammit, wake up, Mercedes!”

Hands, cold and rough, grasp her face with panic. The abrupt sensation rouses something within her and she reluctantly opens her eyes, frowning.

A shock of scarlet hair swims before her face, and after a moment, Mercedes recognizes the terrified face in front of her. “Ah…Sylvain…” A beatific smile raises her pale lips as she shudders in his arms. “You’re…here…”

“Don’t talk.” Sylvain’s voice breaks as he stares in horror at the broken arrow embedded deep within her breast. “Goddess…how are you still-”

“Can’t…see…” Mercedes whispers before blood bubbles to her lips and she chokes. Sylvain’s face turns ghost white as he curses, eyes wide and so, so scared.

“I have to bring you back, I gotta—Shit, where’s the professor?!” He twists his neck this way and that as he searches the battlefield, and Mercedes tries to steady her breathing.

“Sylvain…” He jolts to attention at her weak voice and looks back down at her with a feverish attention that makes her smile weakly at his intensity. “Mercedes…?”

“Breathe.” She reminds him. He chokes on a half-laugh, clutching her tightly, rocking her body gently.

“I’m…I’m sorry. Right. In…and…out.”

It takes everything in her to get her next words out. “You have…. Concoction, or Vulnerary?” Mercedes coughs. “The… journey back…easier.”

“O-Oh, right, I do have a Vulnerary. Sorry…” He extracts one of his hands from her body to fumble around at his belt, and Mercedes prays quietly as her dizziness washes over her yet again. _Goddess, be my strength_…

“Mercedes. Mercedes!”

Her voice is stricken with agony as her hands grope blindly. “…’Vian…”

“Stay with me, Mercie.” His fingers cup her neck, raising her with such tenderness. “Lift your head, okay? I’m putting this to your lips…slowly, love …can you swallow? That’s it…”

With her last ounce of strength, Mercedes lifts her head and swallows the Vulnerary.

Finally, _finally_, the Goddess grants her peace, and even as Sylvain calls to her, Mercedes sinks into the soothing void of unconsciousness.

O.O

She wakes up two days later.

Mercedes opens her eyes to see feeble sunlight dancing through the infirmary wing. Were they back in Garreg Mach? She groans softly, her hand coming up to touch her aching temples as she looks around her surroundings.

Beside her, Sylvain snores lightly. He’s curled on a chair next to her bed, arms folded around himself as his head lolls onto her headrest, his mouth parted as he slumbers. Without his armor, Sylvain looks young and sad, and it makes her long to hold him.

Mercedes takes her time to sit up, wincing a bit at the twinge in her abdomen. The pain is but a whisper of what she had experienced however, and so she reaches out and carefully touches his elbow. “Sylvain?”

The cavalier nearly falls out of his chair in his shock. His hands fly to his belt, to the sheathed dagger there, and it makes her ache to see how deeply battle instincts are ingrained in her dear old friends.

But the ache dissipates just as quickly as Sylvain’s exhaustion, and his expression of pure relief and joy warms her up like mulled wine on winter days.

“Mercedes!” He crouches over her in an instant, his hands quickly smoothing her hair back from her face as she beams up at him. “You’re actually awake! Oh, Goddess, I was almost out of my mind these last few days… I even gave the professor such an earful for putting you out there unguarded…”

“No, it was my mistake.” Mercedes says softly, her throat dry and achy. “I think I was careless…”

Sylvain’s eyes darken, and she can see the shutters in his heart lifting. “No… I failed. I was supposed to be guarding you, and I got distracted…”

She pats his hand gently, and his fingers tighten around hers, as if he never wants to let go. He’s warm, and she can feel his pulse beating hot and fast underneath her palm.

“It’s all in the past now.” Mercedes reassures him kindly, and coughs. “Oh, goodness, please excuse me…”

“Are you thirsty? You must be.” He turns to fuss over the pitcher on the bedside table as Mercedes giggles softly at his enthusiasm.

“I missed that laugh of yours.” Sylvain says quietly. He doesn’t wink at her, as he probably would’ve a week ago. Instead he gazes feelingly at her, as if he’s trying to memorize every contour of her face while he can.

“Such a silver tongue.” Mercedes chides, and he chuckles sheepishly as she drinks thirstily from the cup he handed her.

“Can you blame me? I was seriously scared back there, you know.” The mirth dies from his voice, and his whole frame deflates. “It’s not like I see the love of my life bleeding out in my hands every day.”

“Oh, Sylvain.”

“I was…so terrified.” His voice breaks, and her own heart breaks to hear it. “I thought I was going to lose you, right there on that damned hill.”

Mercedes reaches up and cups his face in her hand. Sylvain leans desperately into her touch with a quiet sound of appreciation, his own hand coming up to caress hers.

“I’m right here, love.” Mercedes tells him softly. The endearment makes him shiver into her touch like a cat having its ears stroked. “I can’t promise to not be in this situation again…but I swear to the merciful Goddess that whatever we face, we will face together. Is that okay?”

“More than okay.” Sylvain mumbles into her wrist. She laughs breathily as he presses fervent kiss after kiss down the expanse of her creamy skin with the same adoration a worshipper would have as they kneel at the pedestals of the saints.

“Forgive me.” He gasps as he lifts her arm to kiss at her shoulder with an urgent, leonine fervor. “This is the only way to assure myself that this isn’t a dream…”

“That’s quite alright.” Mercedes feels breathless, and quite indecent as his teeth grazes at her skin, provoking a soft yelp from her mouth. “Oh…!”

“Is this improper?” Sylvain pulls away, his eyes concerned and more than a little heated. He draws back, laughing a bit guiltily. “This is definitely improper…I’ve got some horrible bedside manners, don’t I, Mercie?”

Mercedes giggles, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. “You certainly are quite lacking in that regard, I must say…” Her hands drop to her lap as she lifts her eyes shyly up to meet his. “But I…I don’t exactly mind.”

Sylvain groans hotly. “_Goddess_, Mercie.” He moves forward to hold her face in his hands with a tender adoration, his breath meeting hers as their foreheads bump gently against each other. “You sure know how to make a man blush.”

His low murmur is silenced when she leans the rest of the way and kisses him gently, smiling as he leans eagerly into her, his strong arms encircling her with warmth. One hand rests on her waist, and another cupping her shoulder with a reverence that makes her head spin.

Her hands rest on his chest, where she can feel his heart thumping at a frantic pace as he deepens the kiss, tilting her head gently for better access. It prompts a happy sigh from her lips, which makes him smirk into her mouth. It breaks the heated tempo of the kiss, and so they reluctantly separate with sheepish laughter.

Mercedes remembers the first time she had used magic. It was sizzling and sparkling, wild and free, and yet it was nothing compared to the whirling emotions dancing through her body. They’re the color of Sylvain’s eyes, the shine of his smile, and the warmth of his arms. It’s nothing short of ethereal.

And so it feels like the most natural thing in the world to tell him, “I love you, Sylvain.” Her voice is a loving smile, an adoring sigh. It’s as easy as saying hello, and as fervent as a prayer. 

Sylvain’s eyes widen, as if he can’t believe his ears. A delighted, boyish grin spreads across his lips, as powerful and beautiful as the rising sun, and he pulls her hand to his mouth and kisses her pale knuckles deeply.

“I love you too.” He tells her earnestly, looking back up to her in wonder. “I don’t think I’ve said it enough. I love you, Mercie, I love you so damned much it’s burning me up.”

“I’m glad.” Mercedes laughs a bit shakily as her eyes blur, her emotions finally catching up to her after the last few harrowing days. “Oh, Sylvain, I’m so blessed to have someone like you in my life.”

“Right back at you, love.” Sylvain says with a small chuckle that quickly deteriorates into a short sob as she buries her face in his chest. His own tears come to mingle with hers as he embraces her tightly, as if he doesn’t plan on letting go anytime soon.

And by the Goddess, she is not planning on letting go either. As of now, she is content to hold, and to be held. 

For life could be so much crueler.

**Author's Note:**

> sylvain and mercedes are huge romantics with truly messed up backstories and so they deserve a good cry in each other's arms
> 
> Sorry for nearly killing Mercedes...yell at me from the comments, why don't ya? Thank you for reading!


End file.
